If You'll Be My Stars, I'll Be Your Sky
by VallyDream
Summary: She traces around your scars. You trace around her scars. She traces around your collar bones. You trace around her tattoo. Sweets/OC
1. Counting My Scars

**I own nothing. I don't own Lance Sweets, but hell, if I did; Daisy would have never been born.**

**/**

You've always loved Whitney. Those dark blue eyes that slice thought people like a knife. Her hand cut red and black hair that hangs around her face. Those slender fingers that trace around your collar bones. They way that her skin looked like it was made from white chocolate that might melt under your touch. Her eyebrows that would arch when she got pissed.

She smiles at you, her hair slightly covering her face as she traces her gloved fingers over the ivory bones. Those perfect lips that grin as you saunter over to her. Your hands are on her shoulders, your fingers placing butterfly kisses over her neck. You feel her skin prickling with goosebumps as you outline her tattoo. It's a black witch on a broom. It's eyes are the only colour on it; and there a dark blue. Like hers.

Her spine wiggles against your fingers as you touch the vertebras. She tells you off. "I need to finish this, then I'll come play." Her eyes say the words, matching her mouth. Those purple painted lips close and press against your cheek, just for a second. Then she pushes you from the room; telling you to go home and she'll be there soon. Her eyes are smudged with her dark makeup from the day or maybe she's just really tired. She never sleeps when she's with you. When you fall asleep, she's still awake and when you wake up, she's still there. You remember once finding her asleep on a desk, and you woke her before Dr. Brenan found her.

You sitting in your flat, waiting for Whitney. You lay on your bed, face in your hands. All you can think about is Whitney. You consumes your mind and takes over your body. She is everything that your not.

A knock on your door wakes you from your thoughts and you race there, trying to get there without falling on the things that Whitney leaves behind. When you open the door, she's there. Her hair is still falling in-front of her face and her lips are still purple. Her black hair is still half dip dyed red and her eyes still have so much black around them. The black brings out the flecks of gold in them that you didn't know where there. You feel so bad for not knowing. You thought that you knew everything. She's screaming on the inside, you can tell. You're the only on that can tell because you know her best. Better then her own parents.

She pushes past you and grabs an shoe from the ground. "Started wearing heels now, haven't we Lance." You would frown but she makes frowning to hard. Goth or human, Whitney Black knows you inside and out. Her arms wrap around you neck and you smile. She laughs at you as you push her away and walk into the kitchen, trying to find the beeping that has been causing your headache. Someone as turned the microwave on. When you see Whitney's face, her grin. The laugh that is hiding behind her face and the smirking drawn on her lips you can tell that she was the one that set it off, but she's only been here for five minutes. Or maybe it's five hours; you can't tell when your with Whitney.

You want to ask her how she did it, but you know that she won't tell. "An good magician never revels her secrets." she would always say. She likes to twist you around her fingers, allowing you to believe that lies that she feeds you. Her lips pout together and she opens your pantry. She grabs some coffee and starts to boil some water. She presses her lips to yours, staining your lips with the colour and taste of grapes. You run your tongue along her pearly white teeth, until a sharp ringing brakes the kiss.

She walks away, tipping the hot water into a mug. After the coffee powder is tipped in she starts to drink it. Her lips keep touching the mug, colouring it with purple. She keeps sipping it, leaving her prints. Those lips never think about touching yours, no matter how bad you want them too. If you were Whitney; the coffee mug would have fallen to the tile ground along time ago.

She pulls you onto the couch, lips press to your after she is done with the coffee. Her eyes are closed and her lips are warm. But the mug isn't on the counter. It's shattered on the ground, in millions of pieces.

"I broke your mug." She mumbles into the kiss.

"Doesn't matter." You say as you pull Whitney from the couch and push her to the wall. Your lips become one as her legs straddle your waist. She's presses against the cold wall, and your warm body. You feel her body shiver as you re-trace her spine. Her body wiggles like a snake in your arms as you place more pressure to the kiss.

Your lying on the ground, Whitney's on your back. Her hands are rubbing your back. She's never seen your back and you don't want her to see it. You almost go to push her from your back, but she's seduced you. Her fingernails drag down your back, you can almost feel her ripping you shirt. She has.

She pulls it from you and gasps. You roll over from underneath her, her body straddling your hips as you lay on the tile floor.

"What happened to your back, Lance?" She says as she traces your abs. You look away from her eyes that have clouded over with pain and sorrow. "Lance, look at me." She touches your face, her hand ice cold on your warm cheek. She lightly digs her nails into her palm.

You shake your head at her. She pulls of her top and she's lying on you in her bra and jeans. You look at her and see that her torso is covered in long thin lines. She places her arms in-front of your face. More line cover her arms and she traces around them. "Wanna count my scars?"

"Only if you'll count mine. How did that happen?"

"When I was four, my father and some of his friends would rape me. I was so young that I didn't remember. One day I started to get nightmares about it. I didn't know what it was. So my friend, Amy, took me to a therapist and she found out that I had been abused as a child. They had raped me and told me that I loved it. It took me years to trust again."

"And. . . How did you get the scars?"

"After that, I stopped going to see her and I would cut myself. It was only once a month, then once a week and then three times a day. I would fall asleep in bloods of my own blood. I would go to sleep with about eight different pills in my stomach and blood dripping from my body. I started smoking and no one noticed.

"My mom couldn't have cared less, because she was always to busy with her boyfriend. No one in school saw and no one knew. I stopped when I was eighteen. I needed to get a job and I decided that it was a bad idea. No one I knew could help me, so I still did it a bit; I would slice my arms up when I go home. Eventually my arms were just so bad, I cut my torso open. I would just lay on the ground, letting the blood sink into my carpet. Nothing had changed and then Dr. B offered me a job after Daisy was fired.

"I took the job, knowing that I might have to expose my arms and so I stopped. It has been hard but I've learned to go on. I knew something was up when I met you. And it wasn't just that I replaced your girlfriend. There was something about you that drew e to you."

"My parents used to-"

"No Lance. I don't want you to tell me. Your not ready. You haven't told anyone, and I can tell you that you don't want to tell me."

"Whitney-"

"Lance."

"I can help you."

"Don't try fix me."

"Why not?"

"Other guys have tried. And failed."

"How many?"

"More then you can count."

"I can count really high."

She rolls over so that your on top of her. She grabs your face and pulls you down into a heated kiss.

"You are broken."

"I'm not broken."

"Pinkie swear?"

"Pinkie swear." She links your fingers together before getting up from you. Her hair isn't in her face anymore and her lipstick doesn't exist. Pushing some hair from behind her ears, she rubs her fingers over your lips and races off somewhere. You try to follow her, trying to find her. Then you hear the shower go off and you race to the bathroom.

Whitney's clothes are lying on the floor and you push the door open.

And she's smiling at you.

**/**

**Update: I now own Whitney, so I can happily say. . . This is my story and Whitney is mine. I just don't own Sweets. I'm working on that.**


	2. Tied To A Chair

**Whitney's so much fun, right? But Sweets isn't owned by me or my evil little brother, Peter (He's not evil, I just sign him that, as a joke. He still loves me. I hope).**

**/**

Whitney doesn't lie that often. Just every once in a while. You can never tell when she lies though. She's to good for you. The way that she twists you around her fingers. Your been with her since Daisy was fired. You fired Daisy and you felt so bad. When Dr. B hired Whitney instead of rehiring Daisy. You hated her at first, because she replaced Daisy. She loved you and you hated her. Then she hated you and you loved her. She toyed with your heart and left you with mental scars that ripped your heart. At some point she started loving you again, and you could tell. She started leaving you things in your flat. Her shoes, tops, skirts, underwear and bras. It was funny when she first left her shoes. You found them on the floor and you brought it to her the next day. She looked at you, eyes confused and then when she left the next morning; the other one was there too.

Whitney looks at you with those eyes and you know that you'll see her tonight. She bites her teeth together, fangs clenched. She had run those over your body more times then you can count. Her hands reach down to her foot, rubbing the blister that has formed from that day. She crinkles her nose and looks over at you.

She rolls over shoulders. It's about 10 at night and Booth comes over. "What are you both still doing here?"

You start to stutter but Whitney's cool about it. "Oh, sorry Agent Booth. I was lost in my work. Is it okay if I go home now?"

He smiles at her. Booth has always liked Whitney best. He likes her better then any other intern that Bones' has ever had. "It's cool. You and the kid can go home."

You grumble something about not being a kid until Whitney grabs your hand and pulls you from the room. You can already imagine her lips, her sweet kisses and her beautiful body worming around you. When her back arches and her toes curl. Her spine twists and her fists clench. When her nails shred your already scarred back and her fingers weave into your hair, yanking at the strands.

She slides into her car and you grab at the other door. Whitney slides her body over it and frowns. "No, drive your own car."

"But then were will I know to met you?" You complain.

"Oh," she pouts, "you'll have to guess."

You stick your tongue out at her and walk over to your car, Whitney skids from the parking lot, her wheels leaving mascara marks on the ground. You quickly take off, following her. Trying to make sure that you don't lose her.

She pulls up outside your flat and rushes in. You run out after her, your feet twisting with every step. When you push open the door to the apartment, you run into Miss. Ruthbrook. She's one of the old ladies that live in your block.

"Hello Lance." she frowns. You hear Whitney's laugh and Miss. Ruthbrook frowns. "You and your _girlfriend _better not make to much noise tonight."

When you reach Whitney, you shake your head at her.

"I swear that it wasn't me!" She states.

"Miss. Ruthbrook used to smile at me, now all she does is frown."

"How's that my fault?"

"I'm not the one that exercises my vocal cords in bed."

She pushes you and runs up that stairs, her heels clattering muffled by the carpet. When you reach your door, it's open. _Whitney doesn't have a key_.

"A good magician never revels her secrets!" she calls from somewhere in your apartment.

"Whitney? Where are you?"

"We're playing hide and seek! Find me and you'll get your prize."

You run your hands threw your short hair and rubs your temples. "Please Whitney?"

"Lancey, just play!" You start to make your way through the rooms, opening and closing the doors. Whitney isn't in any of them. Once you've checked every room, you call out, "Whitney! I can't find you!"

She giggles again and then you race to the pantry. Whitney curled up in the bottom drawer. "How did you fit in there?"

"A good ma-"

"Magician never revels her secrets. I know, I know."

She uncurls her body from the drawer and pushes you against the wall, her mouth attacking yours. Her finger nails push open the buttons on your shirt and rake down your bare chest, blood lightly forming in the lines. Her mouth tastes the cherry and ash.

Her legs straddle your waist and her play-dough body moulding into yours. Her hands reaches out and flicks the light off. When she turns them back on, your on a chair, left only in your underpants.

"Whitney? What did you do?" she standing in a thong and bra. There made from black and grey lace, her hair pulled to one side. You go to reach for her but your hands are tied with something.

"Uh uh, Lancey. I'm in control today." her nails drag down your thighs, her head following.

/

"Whitney Alice Black, you are evil." Whitney is pressed up against you and your in the bathtub. Her fingers trace around your body, tickling every inch of you.

"Am I really that bad?" she smirks.

"You tied me up and practically raped me." she lightly tickles your manhood and brings her perfect lips to it.

She's already got you screaming.

/

When you leave for work in the morning, it takes you longer then normal because Whitney left you tied to another chair, but this time with her bra and thong. As you leave, Miss. Ruthbrook frowns.

"Did you murder that Goth Girl or -"

"It was or." you say as you leave the room, her eyes stabbing into your back.

/

"Hey Kiddo. Your late." Booth says, "Whitney keep you up last night?"

"You have no idea."

He shakes his head and then Whitney walks into the room. Her eyes attack your mouth and you can tell what she's thinking. You make sure to stay away from her today and that your arms aren't shown.

Whitney's marked them too. And everywhere else.

Today goes normally with out a flaw (well, as flawless as you can get when you work here). Until Whitney comes into your office.

"Hey Dr. Sweets." she says as she sits on your desk.

"Dr. Sweets?"

"We're in public."

"So? Me and Daisy -"

"I really don't wanna know about you and Daisy's relationship."

"I was just going to say -"

"Sweets." Whitney growls. It's not the fun kind, it's the _I will tear you to shreds if you even think about touching me _growl. "I mean it. You always talk about Daisy. I don't really care."

"Whitney -"

"No Sweets. If you like Daisy so much, then why don't you go and get her back!" She storms from you office and doesn't speak to you for the rest of the day.

She doesn't give you those sexy glances, doesn't wait for you, and when you leave; seeing the mascara marks on the concrete, you just can't help but cry.

**/**

**See what I meant? No! Sweets/Whitney forever! R&R, send me some love. Don't know about writing more, review me if you think I should. :)**


	3. It's Okay, I Still Love You

**Sweets isn't owned by me or my goldfish, Gary.**

**Actually****, Gary ins't mine either.**

**I'm fish sitting for my neighbor.**

**Gary isn't a proper name for a fish.**

**I'd name him something like Sir. Slimeyman **

**That's a proper name for a fish.**

**/**

These something about not having Whitney in your arms late at night that makes sleeping impossible. When you were with Daisy, it was okay. You mostly let her sleep on her own. She fidgeted when she slept. Whitney just molds into your body.

Or should you say molded.

She's not your anymore. She's anyone's game. You think that she'll get back her ex probably. Robbie Daniels. You never liked him, he didn't treat Whitney right. He drank and always flirted with other girls. You could tell that it hurt her. He went out with other girls at night, you had seen him. You didn't tell her that.

But you knew that she still loved him.

_You walk into the apartment, your doors open. Whitney's car is parked outside and the lock has been picked. You laugh and shake your head. There's chicken soup on the counter, still warm. It's Whitney's favourite food, she's probably left it out for you._

_You smile when you push open the bathroom door and Whitney's fallen asleep in the bathtub. She's on her jeans and bra. A spider crawls over her hand and she opens her eyes, dark blue burning into a hole in your skin. She grabs the spider, "Gotcha! Hello Mr. Spider."_

"_Lancey, can you get me a jar?" Whitney collects spiders. She's always asking you for jars. She never has any because they are always full with spiders, bugs and odd other things (she's got a jar of blood). _

_You walk off and get an jar. She's holding the spider in her hands, she's giggling and you hand her the jar. After she puts it in there, she launches into a hug. "Thanks for the jar, Lancey."_

"_S'okay Whitney."_

You remember beautiful moments when Whitney loved you. You cant believe that there was a point when you didn't love her, oh what were you thinking. She's beautiful. Eyes that slash through things, like a blade. Eliminating everything in it's path. Lips that are painted deep shades of red, purple and black. That have left you with bruises, that match there colour. Slender hands that have sharp nails that shred your back. White fangs that bit into your neck, lips and shoulders.

You love every inch of her from her black and maroon hair to her peaches 'n' cream back to her slender legs and cute toes.

**/**

You walk into a club, your mind so foggy that you can't tell which one. It's one that Whitney likes. That's all you know about the club. She's there, just like you knew she would be.

But she's with someone. It's not Robbie. You don't know who he is - Wait, he's from the FBI, his team helped you with a case once. He was Spencer something. Her head is lolling on his shoulder, and there hands are clasped. You push your way through the sea of bodies, and make your way to the bar. Whitney doesn't see you, but you can see her. There making out now, there bodies becoming one.

You leave before your drink even gets there.

**/ **

_Whitney's at your door, you heard her knock. She's soaked to the bone, her hair sticking to her face. Her clothes hang off her body, sticking to her skin. Her fangs are chattering together. You pull her into a hug, warming her cold body._

_You think that the cold and water has suck to her bones. You pull her inside, and push her into a hot shower; stripping away the icy layers of clothing. _

When you open your eyes, Whitney's gone. She's not there, no one is. Your alone in your cold bed. Your finger nails scrapping the bed.

Your alone.

**/**

It's Sunday morning and you go and check out Whitney's Facebook.

**Whitney Black Facebook Page:**

**Name: Whitney Alice Black**

**Age: 21 and lovin' it**

**Relationship Status: Taken by Spencer Reid**

**Latest Status Update: Rockin' the Buzz Night Club with: ****Alex Carter****, ****Spencer Reid****, ****Alison Copper****, ****Danielle Parker**

**New Photo's: 156 (added to BUZZ NIGHT CLUB album)**

You want to scream at Whitney. He doesn't love her. Then something binges.

**Relationship Status: Single **

You've got an chance again.

/

When you go to work next morning, Whitney smiles at you for the first time in a month.

A month.

It's been a month since you broke up and she seems okay about it. She's dated some guys, and you've been crying over her. That's not like you. Whitney walks over to you, "Hey Sweets."

"Hi Miss. Black."

"What, so just because we're broken up then your calling me Miss. Black? Really Doctor Sweets?"

You shake your head at her and she hugs you. "I missed you, Lancey." Her lips are pressed against your ear, her sharp fangs nibbling on your earlobe. You push her away and her dark eyes are filled with tears, streaking her face like inky tattoos.

"Kid." Booth is looking at you with those saddisappointedhurt whydidyoudothistoher eyes. You shake your head and walk back into your office.

"Lance." Whitney's cracked voice whispers and you keep walking.

"Kid, don't do this." Booth calls out.

But your so mad at Whitney, it just feels numb. You can hear Whitney's light sobs. She's probably clinging to Booth.

/

"Excuse me, Dr. Sweets." Whitney says. She's being oddly formal. "Dr. B wants to see you. She needs your profiling skills." Her eyes are screaming and you walk over to her. She leads you to an room.

"Thanks Whitney."

"S'okay Dr. Sweets." she says and then leaves.

/

"Whitney?" You call out, "Where are you?"

"Dr. Sweets?" She replies, "In the lab."

You walk over to her. She's sitting on an chair, legs swinging. She's looking into a microscope; she looks up when you walk in. "Hi Dr. Sweets."

"Whitney."

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry." Her nose crinkles at your words.

"What for?"

"I was mean to you."

"I'm the one that broke up with you."

"So?" You say.

"And now I want you back."

"But-"

"You don't have to take you back."

"Maybe I want too."

"Maybe I don't want you to take me back."

"But I thought-"

"You deserve better then me."

"Your perfect, Whitney."

"No, I'm not. You've seen what I've done to myself."

"I still love you."

"I still love you too."

"I want you back." You say as Whitney gets up and hugs you.

"I want you back too."

**/**

**Eekk! I love love love this chapter, Whitney and Sweets get back together! Sorry Swaisy fans, I love Whitney more. Daisy isn't right for Sweets. Sorry!**


	4. They Must Have Been Really Old

**Lance Sweets isn't owned by me. Neither is cocopops. But I love them so much and I was eating them when I wrote this.**

**/**

She's eating cocopop's when you come home. Her hair is pulled back, you don't like it like that. It looks better down, felling over her face; hiding her eyes from everyone. Her eyes are closed and she's humming along to a song. You wonder what song that she's listening to.

"Whitney?" She looks up at the sound of your voice.

"Lancey!" She drops her spoon and her iPod clatters to the ground. She pulls you into a hug; letting go and grabbing her fallen iPod, "Well? How was it?"

"Fine."

"Fine? C'mon. Something more then one word?"

"Today went well. Three words."

"Lance Michel Sweets, in more then three words, how was your day?"

You've been out, you went to see your real parents. It hurt. You wish that you had brought Whitney with you. She would have saved you from there painful words, that stabbed you like daggers. She would have turned them into bubbles, that floated away.

"I don't wanna talk about it." She shakes her head at you. Licking her fangs, she drapes her body over yours and whispers, "C'mon. If you truly loved me then you would tell me." Her tongue slides around you neck, swirling patters that don't stain your skin. She's seducing you, trying to get the truth from you. She twisting your mind and soul, just to fit her liking.

But she's you Whitney and your okay with it.

"Whitney. . ." You moan, as her hands start to travel south, "please stop."

"Lancey, you know that you really don't want me too."

"Please Whitney." Her hands them instantly race away from your pants; and you completely regret saying that.

"See, I knew that you could regret it. You do love me." Her hands start retracing your abs. Her hands pick away at the buttons of your shirt, nails digging into your tender flesh. "Say it. Tell me that you love me, that you want me and that you need me. You do, I know you."

"Whitney. . . Please, I need you. I want you."

"That's not what I want, Lancey."

"I - l-love you."

"I know that you do." Her lips press feather kisses along your skin, her tongue dancing along with it. They leave fake blood, red lipstick along your skin. Beautiful red marks that will fade. But she can make new ones.

"Please Whitney."

"Please Whitney what?" Her lips are outlining your boxers, her tongue sliding over the edge.

"Please Whitney. I'll - c-cook dinner-r for a - a week-k."

"A month, and I get to chose it."

"Fin-e! Anything-g, just please-e Whitney."

Her mouth is quickly in your pants and her nails follow.

/

"Stay Lancey."

"Whitney. When I said anything, this isn't what I had in mind."

Whitney is evil. She's got you tied up to the bed. She's sitting on top of you.

"Hey, that was the deal."

Sometimes you hate Whitney for her horrible ideas.

/

She's finally let you go, but your pressed up in the bed. It's been a fun weekend, and Whitney seems to have forgotten about your Saturday afternoon conversation. She's still mad, but not that much.

"Whitney?"

"Yes Lance?"

"Do you love me?"

"Course! Why wouldn't I? Your beautiful, amazing in the bed, smoking hot and you love me back."

"Then, I was wondering. . ."

"Yes?"

". . ."

"Lancey, what is it?"

"Will you marry me? Again"

Her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. You reach over into your bedside table and pull out a box.

"I know that it's plain but it was my parents before they died. They were married sixty years-"

"Damn, they were old."

"-Yes, Whitney. They were old. And this was what they left me. I was going to give it to you ages ago, but then we broke up. That is perfect for me.

"So, Whitney Alice Black. Will you be my wife?"

She rolls onto you, placing her lips on yours. "It would make me very very happy to be your wife."

"I love you Miss. Sweets."

"And I love you too, Dr. Sweets."

"When you first came here, I hated you."

"I loved you. Then I hated you."

"When did you start loving me again?"

"Mmm. About three months ago."

"Not the time when you were with Spencer."

"Spence was nice, just no as amazing as you. Your far more sexy then him."

"That's not what I meant. When I started loving you, you didn't love me."

"Really? Are you sure about that?"

"No."

"Lancey, I've always loved you."

She kisses you again, her body becoming one with yours as you create a new union.

**/**

**Oh, and one more thing that I don't own is that ring that Sweets uses to proposes to Whitney with. While I did use a similar line, I used a different setting. Also, I don't own his REAL parents. I don't even know if there alive. **

**Awks.**


	5. Ten Years Later

**I can't believe that I made it to chapter five! Sounds stupid, but still. . . I mostly have deleted it because of a) My plot/characters/anything else sucks. b) I'll be to busy to do it. c) It sucks. Full stop. d) Other.**

**But still, SORRY SWAISY LOVERS! I just don't like Daisy. I own nothing.**

Ten Years Later

"Daddy!" A young girl named Clover raced into your arms. Her arms encircled you as you lifted her up into the air.

"Hey Clove." You say as you place her onto the ground. She smiles at you and laughs as you pull as silly face.

"Daddy, where mummy?" The six year old says.

"She died."

Clover's eyes widen at your words, "Really?"

You laugh at her, as her eyes change back to there normal size and she frowns at you, "Not funny, dad."

"Haha. Very funny, Lance." Whitney's standing in the doorway, her black hair hanging at her shoulders.

"Mommy!" Clover runs from you, her small feet pattering on the wooden flooring. Whitney grabbed Clover and hugged her close. "My day was really good mommy. First we had a maths test and I got the highest score! After that we had writing and I got to chose that topic. So, I chose Darkness. It was really cool. It was bout this girl named Alison whose being chased and she is attacked my angels and then she gets knocked out-" You have zoned out by now. Clover always blabbers on and on. She's more like you. She is highly intelligent, her hair is never black and she almost never shuts up when you get her rolling. But she has Whitney's dark eyes. That same beautiful blue that you fell inlove with. They're not the same as hers. Whitney's slice through people, but Clover's have more of a loving touch to them.

"That sounded like a great day, Clovey." Whitney says. She looks at you with _the eyes_ and you can tell that she wasn't listening either.

"Well, I'm glad that you had a great day." Whitney says. She smiles, fangs just peaking out from her lips, "I'm going to go and make dinner."

"Yummy." Clover says.

"What are we having?" You say.

"Zombie brains." She lets the sarcasm sink in before saying, "Or more commonly known as spaghetti and meatballs." The relief on Clover's face is comical. She believe's everything that you say. Everything. Whitney once told her that she was adopted and that her real parents were aliens.

That gave her nightmares for a week.

/

"So, what are we watching tonight?" You ask Whitney. She's put Clover to bed and tricked you into watching some horror movie.

"Hmm. I was thinking about. . . Scream 4?"

"You know that I hate the bit when Olivia dies."

"Then don't watch it."

"You make me."

"Don't be a weenie. We work with this kinda things."

"I still don't like it."

"Wuss." But when the movie starts playing, you see that she's put _Toy Story 3 _on. You love that movie. And she knows it.

No one knew that you had been married for a while. Whitney made you not tell. She brought an new apartment and you both moved in together. Only when she was 3 months pregnant and it started to show did she let you tell.

Everyone thought that it was a joke.

It was pretty funny. She changed from single to married and got about fifty people ask her if it was a joke. Even her own sister, but hey. You would have thought that it was too. You still don't understand why she loves you. She's strange and gothic. Your normal.

Whitney rests her head on your shoulder and smiles at you.

/

When you open your eyes, the credits are rolling and Whitney's asleep in your lap. Your both fully clothed, not like the last time; and Whitney's lightly muttering under her breath.

"I love you, Lance."

"And I love you too, Whitney." You say before you drift off.

**/**

**Short but fluffy and love filled. NOT THAT KIND OF LOVE! But fluffy like. . . um, a bunny? I love Clover, it took me ages to think of a good name for her. And then she was going to be a guy and then I was like, "F**k this, she's a girl named Clover."**

**Like Clove from the Hunger Games ^^**


End file.
